


Someone Who Gets It

by ADisgrace



Category: My Candy Love
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, MCL Rarepair Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 05:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19941034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADisgrace/pseuds/ADisgrace
Summary: Nathaniel has someone who can relate; if only he could get through to him.





	Someone Who Gets It

**Author's Note:**

> Child abuse is referenced in this fic, please tread carefully

Evan wraps gauze around Nathaniel’s cracked and bloody knuckles, all while Nathaniel avoids meeting his eye. He didn’t ask for help, he’s never been that type, even when it’s foisted onto him it’s difficult to accept.

But Evan didn’t give him much of a choice. One minute he was heading into the Snake Room’s bathroom to wash the blood off his hands, the next Evan had hopped the bar, grabbed the first aid kit, and followed him in. Like a true military man, he’d taken charge of the situation, directing Nathaniel to sit in one of the stalls while he attended to him.

Evan warns Nathaniel that the pressure on his cuts might sting a bit and Nathaniel bites the inside of his lip and tries to hide his wince. Evan notices his grimace but doesn’t call attention to it.

“So are you going to tell me what happened?”

Nathaniel narrows his eyes. “Will my answer earn me a lecture?”

Evan can’t help but grin as he shakes his head. “No man, just curious. And besides, whatever it is I’ve probably done worse.”

Worse? Sure. Nathaniel scoffs lightly but answers anyway. “Just a disagreement, that’s all.”

Evan laughs. “Oh yeah, did you win?”

Nathaniel pulls his hand away sharply “Do you find this funny?”

Despite Nathaniel’s hostility, Evan is calm. “No, not at all. I just know your type, I get it.”

Nathaniel is more confused than before he had an answer. He stands up to leave but Evan is still blocking the stall. “My type? You don’t know me.”

Evan backs out of the stall raising his hands, with his palms up defensively to let Nathaniel pass. “I’m just saying, I get it. I’m in the military, I see the tough guy act every day. I’ve been there, done that, have the literal scars to prove it.”

Evan has lost too much of his life, of his relationships, by putting up walls and pushing people away. It was a long, difficult lesson to learn that it’s tougher to be honest and that it is to be tough. And Nathaniel hasn’t learnt it yet.

Nathaniel pauses at the bathroom door, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you think I am but I’m not that. Don’t act like you get it.”

Nathaniel exists through the door and takes a seat at the bar. He orders his usual larger and when it comes he drinks it with his non-dominant hand; the other hand is too swollen and battered to be any use to him tonight.

Evan collects his drink from where he’d been sitting with his brothers earlier and follows Nathaniel to the bar. He doesn’t take a seat in the booth.

Nathaniel turns when he feels the shadow of a figure standing over him. He grits his teeth. “What now?”

“Look, I’m sorry if I pushed it too far earlier. Come join us, the next one is on me. We cool?”

It has been a while since he’s seen Armin and Alexy, and not one to turn down a free drink, he reluctantly agrees.

Armin and Alexy show him a warm welcome and are quick to catch up. Neither of them ask about his hand, but he catches them looking. Conversation flows naturally with plenty of laughs and a fair few stories told. They reminisce on old times and Nathaniel begins to think back on when Evan first showed up.

Evan did cause quite a commotion when he got into town, dragging people into trouble and showing up places with black eyes. Nathaniel hates to admit that he was hasty in his judgement, but maybe Evan was being sincere earlier when he said he’d done worse.

Evan buys him that beer he’d promised him and any hard feelings that still remained go right out the window. Topic turns to college and Armin and Evan’s respective careers. Armin’s doing well, and he talks of a promotion he earned a while back. Whoever pictured that joker as a head of a department in this lifetime?

The catch up doesn’t last for long and Alexy and Armin head home early, they want to catch up with Morgan while the night’s still young, and besides they have an early start. A friend of theirs just renovated their beach house and they’re going to drive out there in the morning.

Evan, on the other hand, has no desire to end the night here. “Shots?”

Evan heads to the bar and buys two drinks that are alarmingly neon in colour. Nathaniel knocks his back quick and shudders at the sourness. There’s barely any flavour, just pure tart overwhelming his taste buds.

Nathaniel slams the shot glass down onto the table. “Ugh, are you trying to poison me?”

Evan places his shot glass down gently, his expression is composed and unaffected by the sourness. “I wouldn’t have bandaged you up if I planned on poisoning you.”

Nathaniel hums a noise in lieu of a reply. “I suppose I should thank you for that.” He pauses. “And say sorry.”

Evan notes that Nathaniel only ‘supposes’ he should, but chooses to ignore it. “Apology accepted. I’d be a major hypocrite if I didn’t, considering all the times I’ve shown up places black and blue.”

Nathaniel leans back in the booth and runs his good hand through the back of his hair. “I feel like you’re trying way too hard to relate to me here. I don’t need you to look out for me.”

Evan shakes his head and then leans forward over the table towards Nathaniel. “I’m not trying anything here. I’m just saying I’ve been through the same shit, played the macho man who pretends he doesn’t have feelings, acted tough and picked fights to prove it. You see this shit day in day out in the military.”

Nathaniel exhales deeply, almost as an expression of disbelief. “Jesus Christ, weren’t you some party animal when we first met, the black sheep next to your brothers? When did this psychoanalysis thing start?”

Evan laughs. “Am I the therapist or the patient?”

“I don’t know, do you have something that you want to get off your chest?”

Evan pauses, unsure whether he should continue, but he steadies himself and reaches across the table to lay a hand on top of Nathaniel’s uninjured one. “Just that one abused kid recognises another. I get it; I lashed out the same way.”

Nathaniel jumps to his feet, pulling his hand away with such force the table rattles and the shot glasses are nocked to their side. His heart is pumping, his eyes are wide, and his voice comes out louder than expected. “What the hell did your brother’s tell you about me?”

Evan frantically motions with his hands for Nathaniel to sit down. People are staring and this clearly isn’t a topic Nathaniel wants the world hearing about. “Nothing, Nothing. I just guessed.”

Nathaniel feels sets of eyes looking at him and sits down. He wants to leave, get as far away from this conversation as possible, but he can’t risk letting Evan tell anyone about this, so he sits down to set him straight. “How did you guess something like that?” Nathaniel shakes his head. More important matters first. “I need you to keep this to yourself.”

Evan looks surprised. If he didn’t understand the fear himself, he’d be almost offended that anyone could think he’d treat a subject as serious as this like gossip “I would never tell anyone.”

A silence falls over them. Evan doesn’t want to push more than he already has and Nathaniel doesn’t want to be there at all, never mind talk about it. A bartender comes to collect their empty glasses and still, the silence remains. The bartender thinks better than to ask if she can get them anything else and walks away.

It’s Nathaniel who caves first. “So what do you want for me?”

“Nothing.” Evan shrugs his shoulders. “I see what you’re going through and I’ve been there before. If you want to talk to someone who gets it, I’m here.”

Nathaniel should walk away. Who the fuck does this asshole think he is confronting him like this? Who thinks this is an appropriate topic of conversation with someone you barely know? He should tell him what’s what, show him what lashing out really looks like. But he doesn’t.

Maybe it’s because he’d feel like the world’s biggest hypocrite for encouraging Amber to get help then and doing nothing to help himself. Maybe somewhere deep down he knows he needs this. Either way, he stays.

“Alright. I’m listening.”


End file.
